The Assassin
by bnburke90
Summary: Her unknown past, identity, and purpose leave everyone she meets both wary and yet, inexplicably, drawn to her. With a combination of beauty, cunning, and ruthless bloodlust, she uses her skills as an assassin to follow her own agenda through a world of revenge, blackmail, deceit, and lust. Who will she go after next, and will she survive this time? (Skyrim)


The famously cold Skyrim air wafted into the room through the open door, announcing the arrival of another customer.  
"Don't just stand there! Close it!" Keerava, the stout Argonian owner, called out in her raspy voice. Her tail flicked at the sudden burst of cold. She'd lived here with her husband, Talen-Jei for over ten years, yet she still missed the humid, warm air of her old home in Black Marsh. She had come to Skyrim all those years ago to realize her dream of opening a popular inn, and now she looked around proudly. Two entrances on either end of the building, the bar counter right in the middle, several wooden tables and chairs, and a fairly large wooden floor space for talking or, if a bard happened to stop by, some dancing. The second floor contained three rooms for rent as well as the bedroom she slept in with Talen-Jei.  
The door slammed shut with a resounding creak of rusty hinges. Keerava made a mental note to oil them down the next day. It was 21 hundred hours on Fredas, and the Bee and Barb Inn was already bustling with its usual crowd of middle to upper class workmen looking for a fun start to the weekend, and available women aiming to please. The newcomer joined the throng nondescriptly, throwing back their cowl to reveal dark, glossy hair braided back elegantly. The woman, clearly an Imperial by her foreign appearance, made her way to the bar.  
"One bottle of mead, please," she said pleasantly, taking out a gold purse.  
"Make that Black-Briar Reserve. Two while you're at it," a man interjected, approaching the counter from one of the nearby tables. Keerava regarded him will ill concealed contempt.  
"Of course, Sibbi. Here you are." She placed the expensive mead on the counter, accepting Sibbi's gold coins for the drinks. Sibbi Black-Briar was the youngest son of Maven Black-Briar, the wealthiest and most influential person in Riften Hold. As Maven's son, Sibbi was exposed to all the luxuries of life and exploited them in earnest. He was quite handsome with his close cropped dark hair, tan complexion, and fine robes, and he used this to his advantage to court beautiful women, single or otherwise. Understandably he was hated by virtually the whole village, most of his exes, and the men whose wives he'd held affairs with, but, despite a brief stay in Riften's jail for murder, he was untouchable.  
The girl turned to Sibbi, obviously impressed by his looks and forwardness. "Thank you. I've been traveling for awhile and was quite looking forward to this mead," she said appreciatively.  
"Consider it a welcome gift. As you were made aware, I'm Sibbi, but I haven't the pleasure of your acquaintance?" His velvety voice inquired politely. Keerava, sweeping with her back to the counter, rolled her eyes. She felt sorry for the woman who would soon fall under Sibbi's spell and no sooner be left with an aching heart.  
"Ladia Facici," she responded, holding out her hand as he bent down to kiss it. The two moved to the end of the bar and started talking. Soon Sibbi was boasting about his power and wealth. Ladia was obviously taken by him, and as the drinks kept coming, she became more and more tipsy and reckless, sometimes leaning into him, other times resting her hand on his. Eventually, Sibbi leaned forward and whispered into her ear. She nodded happily, and Sibbi turned to Keerava.  
"I'll take one room for tonight," he said, sliding coins across to Keerava.  
Keerava sighed unhappily. "Take the south one furthest from the stairs."  
"Thank you," Sibbi responded in a mocking tone. He then grabbed Ladia's hand, led her to the stairs, and ushered her into the room. She giggled drunkenly the whole way.  
Once there, Sibbi turned and locked the door. "You are so beautiful," he said. He was the perfect charmer, well versed in the art of women.  
Ladia smiled as Sibbi untied her cloak and tossed it to the side before reaching out and unlacing her dress bodice slowly. It fell to the floor into a pool of fabric around her feet. He then reached behind her to the strap of her corset, took it off quickly, and stepped back, admiring her. She stood before him, nude, save her white underdress and stockings.  
"So beautiful," Sibbi repeated, before stepping forward and kissing her softly. His hands cupped her breasts, free underneath the silky underdress, and he started to kiss her harder, dominating her. He made quick work of her dress and stockings before pushing her down onto the bed. He laid on top of her, straddling her, both of them completely naked, and soon they were lost in each other.

* * *

Sibbi snored softly, sound asleep with part of the cover pulled over him. The space on the bed next to him was empty, as Ladia returned to his side fully clothed. It was 2 hundred hours Loredas morning, and Ladia's face was not the same silly expression she had possessed only two hours prior. She now had the look of steel in her eyes, enough to make any Nord man think twice about messing with her. She slipped her beautifully made deadric dagger, a gift from her old teacher, from its scabbard with a familiar hiss.  
"You know, you really weren't that bad," she said in a loud, but not loud enough to be heard, conversational tone, causing Sibbi to jump awake. He was still drunk from the effects of the previous night, while Ladia, who had faked the whole thing, was sharp and awake. She stood over him, twirling and studying the blade of the dagger. "I was curious how the famous Sibbi Black-Briar would fair, and I can see why wenches have fallen for you." She turned her hard gaze on Sibbi, but he was too confused to understand what was happening.  
"That's why I'm here, of course. Revenge. You really shouldn't go around strapping random women without knowing a thing about them beforehand. Don't worry, I won't let you make the same mistake again."  
Ladia saw a flash of understanding mixed with fear shoot through his eyes, but before he could cry for help, she plunged her dagger into his heart. He managed one gurgled word: "Ladia", before dying within seconds.  
"Insensitive swine. And that's not my real name," she said with raw hatred. She proceeded to loot his body of several expensive pieces of jewelry and clean the room of traces of her. Satisfied, she pulled out the dagger, turned her heel, and left the room.  
She slowly made her way through town, all too aware that suspicious activity was more likely to attract attention than an air of casualty. She found her way to the capital's shrine of Talos, conveniently yet stupidly placed flush to one of the stone perimeter walls. She easily boosted herself up onto the hard stone, pulled to the top of the wall, and dropped lightly over the other side. Sloppy security, she thought as she pulled her cowl low over her face.

She ran in a low crouch back through the sparse woods a hundred meters to her horse, Arrow, hidden behind a rock outcropping. She quickly changed out of her frilly dress into dark, tough leather armor, redonned her dark cloak, and retrieved her bow. She preferred the bow, but knew she couldn't tote the massive, elegant black weapon into town without attracting suspicion. Properly armed and armored, she saddled her horse and rode away.  
The mysterious woman disappeared into the night, leaving no physical trace of the seven hours she had spent in Riften.

* * *

**Not sure if I'm going to keep this story going, I just had a sudden interest in possibly writing a skyrim story. I wrote it very quickly, and realize it's a little rough. Tell me what you thought anyways!**


End file.
